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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29248986">To Be Lilith, Damned by the Hand of Your Own</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armos/pseuds/Armos'>Armos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, M/M, Will is cursed, abigail is hannibal's ward, hannibal flashfic #005, hannibal is shady, hannibal is the town doctor, set in the 1690s</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:21:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29248986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armos/pseuds/Armos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Will gazes out across the river, silent and contemplative.  He had sought the guidance of the village physician, as he was wont to do, and the good doctor had recommended a solution lime, sugar, and water to ease the fever that has been plaguing his mind for the past fortnight.  He had drank the solution but it did not ease the sharp pang of pain in his mind, tearing at his skull.  He had taken to praying at the alter of the local cathedral, fearful of demons residing within him in large and grotesque number, and hoping for absolution.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham &amp; Abigail Hobbs &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Hannibal Flashfic #005</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Be Lilith, Damned by the Hand of Your Own</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Will gazes out across the river, silent and contemplative.  He had sought the guidance of the village physician, as he was wont to do, and the good doctor had recommended a solution lime, sugar, and water to ease the fever that has been plaguing his mind for the past fortnight.  He had drank the solution but it did not ease the sharp pang of pain in his mind, tearing at his skull.  He had taken to praying at the alter of the local cathedral, fearful of demons residing within him in large and grotesque number, and hoping for absolution.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallows convulsively, ignoring the hands rising from the water clutching at his trousers, as he casts his net.  He closes his eyes and prays, willing the demons away, but his head is pounding within his skull.  He knows it is the Devil playing tricks, the cause of his fever and head pains, but he will not leave Will’s presence.  It fills him with apprehension for his future death.  He will not ascend into the great Heavens but to the burning fiery depths of Hell to be tortured, to be whipt, drawn, and quartered by his hellish fiends.  If he were to speak aloud of his visions of death and the dying he would surely he drowned as a witch.  Therefore, he remains silent as he opens his eyes to gaze back at the water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hopes to catch a fine amount of fish.  He needs them to sell in the market square so that fine young men will take them home to their wives to feed hungry mouths of children and he can pay his rental taxes.  He also promised the good doctor a fine batch in payment for his continued services.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he contemplates the quiet waters, small hands of the evil witches previously drowned for consorting with the Devil himself grasping tightly at his soaked trouser legs, he hears someone’s soft footfalls coming from behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good Eve, Mr. Graham.  Do the fish bite and nibble at your line tonight?,” come the dulcet tones of Dr. Lecter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No line tonight, doctor, but a net.  I confess to becoming desperate for a catch.  These waters are, in essence, dry of life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will considers the evil poisoning the waters, bodies sunk beneath the waves polluting the shoreline, and quietly mourns for the loss of his livelihood.  He was never provided the opportunity to take on apprenticeship as a young man, too busy helping his ailing father provide for the household.  When his father past he was well versed in the waters enough to provide a humble Christian living for himself in a cabin on the outskirts of the village.  It is where he remains though he finds himself falling asleep in the doctor’s parlor more oft than not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor stands by his side and watches the waters with him for a few moments, enjoying the companionable silence.  People give Will a wide breadth, a man with black sludge within his unholy veins.  He is cursed for reasons unknown but all know it, even himself.  The only person to suffer his companionship was the good doctor, a man of science and true religion- accepting and offering genial and cordial relations to all in the city, be they Christian whites or the slaves tilling the fields.  Will admires him for that, the easy acceptance of all God’s children and living things.  Will strives to be the same but even the freedmen and slaves have taken to avoiding his presence.  He has heard them whispering- calling him Lilith in male skin, a false visage sent to spread evil through the soil and dry the river beds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is lost in the winding corridor of his mind when the doctor leaves.  When he comes back to himself, head pounding behind his eyes, he is alone on the shore.  His net is filled with a variety of bass and a few catfish.  He is unsure how he missed the tug of the heavy thrashing of fins.  He counts his blessings and shoves and hauls the net on land.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes his selection of fish home and prepares the salt to preserve his catch.  He carefully parses out the fattest and healthiest of the fish to bring the good doctor for dinner.  He is sure Dr. Lecter will find some form or fashion of meal to be fashioned from them.  The rest he puts to the side to preserve for the market tomorrow morning.  He is sure many will avoid his catch and stall but he hopes some will take pity on him to provide a few brass coin for his troubles.  He will take the unsold fish home to provide him and his hounds with meals until the scales of the fish fall off and the meat rots from the bones.  He will feed those bones to his hunting dogs as he trains them to fetch rabbits and squirrels without damaging the pelts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bundles the fresh fish and lets the fire in his hearth lower down to a nice kindle.  His dogs mill about his living space, staying warm and huddling under or around his bed.  They doze contentedly and he smiles as he leaves them be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He arrives at the doctor’s home when the sun begins to set in the dusky Virginia sky.  He can smell the begins of a hot meal wafting through the open windows and the sound of a young girl’s laughter floats to his ears.  Young Abigail, the doctor’s adopted ward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will hesitates, pausing before allowing his knock to ring throughout the foyer of the home.  Abigail answers the door, donned in a conservative frock and apron over her simple dress- still too young for the doctor to begin her pageantry to find her a suitable husband and match- and her smile seems to pause momentarily on her face.  Her eyes are intense and intelligent before she masks them with demure shyness expected of a lady.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good Eve, Mr. Graham.  Are you here for supper?,” she asks, shifting to allow Will to step into the warmth of their home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods at her, keeping a respectful distance.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not mean to intrude, Ms. Hobbs,” he states awkwardly, holding the bundle of fish up for her to observe.  “I bring gifts for your caretaker as thanks for allowing me into your home for dinner tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shifts and clears his throat.  She smiles.  He feels that guilt in his bones and resolves to pray for forgiveness in the morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leads him into the kitchen, all stumbling grace and eagerness.  He deposits the fish on the counter, next to where the doctor is preparing fresh produce for their dish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most would assume young Abigail here would be the cook as it is known as the lady’s station in the home,”  Will teases.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Abigail is still learning though she has taken quite nicely to her womanly duties in the home.  She will make some lucky man a wonderful wife some day,”  Dr. Lecter replies, tone also teasing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With your knowledge of the womanly arts one would think you were bound to be a wife and not a man, good physician.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Graham, do not be ludicrous.  To be well-rounded as a bachelor, one as old as mineself, and to maintain a structured and welcoming home environment is of utmost importance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will rolls his eyes and looks to Abigail, sending her a mischievous wink.  She giggles quietly into her palm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come, Ms. Hobbs, help your caregiver prepare this meal.  As he said, you must practice or do you wish to be a dispassionate wife one day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abigail flounces her way to the counter, poking her tongue out at Will with great countenance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was helping him, Mr. Graham, but as I recall someone came knocking upon the door,” she tells him as he shifts to the doctor’s other side, leaving her space to clean and gut the fish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, now, Abigail.  Be respectful of Mr. Graham.  He is a valued friend and man within our circle,” Dr. Lecter chides.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yessir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will pokes his tongue out at her from behind the doctor’s back.  She swallows another giggle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will once again wrestles with the guilt underneath his breast bone.  He looks at this girl and sees a daughter though it is by his own hand she is now in the position she finds herself.  She has never once shown him hostility for his actions and for that he remains grateful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, supper is ready and they are seated at the table.  Dr. Lecter is the head where Will sits to his right, by the doctor’s own insistence, and Abigail sits to his left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Lecter leads them through grace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>For food in a world where many walk in hunger;</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For faith in a world where many walk in fear;</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For friends in a world where many walk alone;</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We give you thanks, O Lord.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amen,” Abigail says quietly across from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amen,” Will repeats, just as soft.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor gestures to them to eat and so they do.  It is a well prepared meal with a hearty ale, brought by ship in barrel from overseas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps Ms. Hobbs will play us a song on the piano tonight post supper?,”  Will asks, hesitantly.  He is in no overall rush to return to his abode, for once.  He is a man consumed by his loneliness.  No family and two marriages lost- he is surprised a man of the doctor’s stature would invite him into his home.  Perhaps he should not push this acquaintanceship too fully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or, rather, I think I must get home to my hounds upon further ponderance.  I do not wish to intrude in your home longer than necessary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Lecter smiles at him, all indulgence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, Will, this home is as much yours as it is mine.  Stay and listen to Abigail play.  I am sure she is eager for an audience, for all her practicing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Mr. Graham, please stay!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, alright,” Will concedes, cheeks red and hot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stand to clear the table, meal finished and plates polished with relish, when a sharp wave of dizziness grabs hold of Will and forces him to his knees.  His hands grasp the tablecloth tightly, fingers white as polished bone.  His vision whites out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he comes to it is to the doctor leaning over him, hand pressed firmly to his chest.  His heart is beating rapidly underneath his rib cage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Graham?,” Abigail asks, scared and hesitant from the other side of the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will cannot concentrate, his vision hazy around the corners.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were kicking and wailing like the Devil himself took ahold of you.  Are you well, Mr. Graham?,”  she asks again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will is a man poisoned, his veins are filled with the black blood of the Devil.  Cursed.  He must leave this house or risk poisoning the innocents within.  He feels biles rise in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He brought them the fish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I must go.  I apologize.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His gaze falls on Abigail and he feels his face crumple, so guilty and full of fear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushes out of the doctor’s gaze and moves to stumble to the door when he catches his gaze.  The doctor is staring at him with impassive eyes, not particularly frightened of the evil Will has unwittingly unleashed within their home.  It is as though he expected it, welcomed it.  Enriched it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Lecter was the one to cook the fish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can tell the doctor knows when the connection alights in Will’s mind and he smiles, genial and calm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will stumbles away and from the room, shaking and feverish.  The need to expel the poison in his body rising rapidly in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Graham, I do not think you are fit to travel home at this time.  Please, stay and rest.  I will attend to your sickness.  I am your attending physician.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will swallows down a bout of sick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you feed me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor pauses and tilts his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The same as what I and Abigail have consumed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will shakes his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.  No, you lie.  What have you done to my body?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor hums.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A plant.  To expel the toxins in your system.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What,” a gag, “What plant?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wisteria.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will turns around, eyes ablaze and wild.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seek to kill me in your parlor, Dr. Lecter?,” Will whispers, horrified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nonsense, Mr. Graham.  It was a small dose.  Just enough to incapacitate so that we may work to regulate your systems.  As I said, expel the evil from within.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will throws up on his floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears Dr. Lecter tsk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Abigail, my darling, please clean up after Mr. Graham.  He is feeling unwell and I must take him to bed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last thing he remembers as the fever takes hold over his mind is the feeling of strong hands grasping his arms and dragging him from the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He awakes three days later, wet dog nose pressed firmly to his neck.  He blinks, chasing the dry heaviness of sickness from his eyes, and observes his pack of hounds sitting as silent watchers around his bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though it is not his bed, but the doctor’s within his sick room.  This is where his more sickly of patients are sequestered and treated but it is usually under the assumption they shall pass onto Heaven.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I to die?,” Will croaks, directing his question to Winston.  His dog blinks back at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nonsense, Will.  It would not do either of us well for you to pass on from this mortal realm too soon,” he hears from the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slowly tilts his head to regard the doctor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor stares back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have missed service this week.  I must offer penance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You, my dearest friend, are not fit to leave this bed and therefore you shan’t,” comes the easy reply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will finds himself incensed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you keep me from seeking forgiveness and guidance from the Lord?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Lecter smiles at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not an…. Overly religious man, Mr. Graham.  We both know this.  I do not see your overbearing need to pray away the sins of others and take them on as your own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am cursed.  My failures-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have no failures, Mr. Graham.  Those around you are the ones cursed with impurities.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will regards the man quietly, suspicious.  A slow realization fills his mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You- you are a witch.  Nay, the Devil himself- I can feel it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor tilts his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can feel it?,” the doctor asks, quietly.  “What has given you this impression.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since you have taken residence within our humble community there has been more death,” Will’s voice cracks, “more sin, and no one is the wiser.  No one notices because you charm with your Devish wiles and temptations, laying people’s wants and needs outside their doors.  You take away the harvest, the fertility of men and women, the children-- the children all die here now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Lecter shakes his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not all children.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not all.  Only mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will purses his lips and swallows down the tears.  There is no good to come from allowing his sorrow to come forth.  That is between him and God and the grave dug next to his cabin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seek to poison me, doctor?,” Will asks, voice beginning to rise in volume.  “You are the poison running through my mind, giving me visions of Hell and death waiting at my door.  What have I done to be cursed by you as I have?  Has my callous character offended you?  Are you to kill me with your potions and witchcraft, shove more poison herb down my throat and offer my soul further into damnation?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Lecter smiles at him, the tilt of his mouth suggesting he sees Will as but a mere babe- hardly grasping the meaning of his accusations.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My dear, lovely, Mr. Graham- your mind is inflamed and infectious.  You see things that are not there.  You speak of visions- perhaps you are the witch in this situation?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am a pious man!  I pray at the alter and offer penance as I may!  Do not twist my words.  You wish to accuse me of witchcraft to hide yourself?  I’m sure all would believe you and you shall laugh as they drown my body next to that of the red-headed Devil-woman, Ms. Freddie Lounds.  Her body poisons the shores and the fish as I suspect mine shall as well.    How dare you accuse me of being in consort with the Devil,”  Will spits.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I am the Devil, in your eyes, would that mean you are consorting with me?,” Dr. Lecter asks, body turned in full toward Will.  He is enraptured, evidenced by his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not lie with the Devil nor man,” Will hisses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps you should, my dear Will.  I could open up the world to you.  I see the temptation in your eyes, your continued reliance upon myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will is suddenly reminded of his status, too weak to arise from this bed.  He would not be surprised to hear of his cabin burning down, blamed on the carelessness of allowing the fire to burn in his hearth as he is not home.  The good doctor rescuing and taking in his dogs as he sleeps, taking in Will as a stray mutt off the streets so he may not be relayed a drunken beggar in the alleyways of the village roads.  He is trapped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What could you offer me apart from damnation, you He-Devil?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Lecter holds his gaze, steady, suddenly serious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Family.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will is taken aback.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think, Will, of your lost children.  Your cursed babes buried in the graveyard.  Your two marriages, failed by God.  Your first wife- absconding with another woman after the loss of your first babe.  Tarnishing your reputation in the eyes of man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your second wife, whisked away by the night with her child without a word.  She is gone- and to where?  He was not even your babe, taking and marrying a poor widow, but lingering in your presence almost brought upon his death so struck with the fever was he.  She recognized you as cursed and ran at first light, a woman fearing for the soul of her son.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not a woman to be cursed by you as I have no womb to influence.  I do, however, have a ward- a daughter of sorts- taken in with the death of her late father.  He was cursed as you are, mind aflame with demons sucking on his soul.  You had him hung, recognizing him for the witchcraft he surrounded himself and his family within, submitting their souls to the Devil.  I recall you thanking me for taking in young Abigail and leading her to a more righteous and holy life.  She is a truly wonderful creature, speaking to the Black Goat as candid a child can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you forsake this child because of her inclinations?  Or perhaps you already feel that fatherly attachment to her from being in our presence as you most oft are.  You are ostracized and feared by the villagers here.  I offer you freedom and family- a new home and place away from here- but you must accept me or accept your fate to die by my hand, disgraced as a cursed man afflicted by the demons sucking on your soul.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will clenches his jaw, enraged and lost.  He does not know what to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are the cause for my lost babes and my failures as a married man.  God will not accept me now and I will have no family waiting for me in Heaven.  You have done more than damn me with your influences.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor shrugs, undisturbed by the thought of condemning so many to Hell if only to possess Will for himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Consider, dear Mr. Graham.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Lecter is prowling toward him, like one of the wolves lingering in the wood pacing around its chosen kill.  He looks hungry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have already eaten the flesh of witches at my table.  You are already taken, condemned, by holy standards.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will looks at him sharply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I have fed you the flesh of the damned,” the doctor says with a smile as he glances about the room.  “Many of them died here within the same bed you reside.  Small ailments, lesser fevers and shakes.  They made better meals to tempt you into my doors than they made men and women walking the market square.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Lecter offers a hand, now standing next to Will’s bedside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you join me- you will find your greatest wants fulfilled by nightfall and the ever looming fear of torture and death go away in a mere moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will stares at the hand, offering him all his temptations, then into the eyes of the doctor.  He sees darkness swirling in the maroon of his eyes, a truly ominous color.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will considers.  He is trapped and already within the gaping maw of the Devil himself, chosen to be his male-Lilith as he reigns his terror upon the innocents and tortures the sinners of the world for his amusement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes the hand and accepts his deal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is a man damned.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>honestly wrote this in a haze</p></blockquote></div></div>
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